


Eco: Aftermath

by Entropy_Andre



Series: Eco: Aftermath - A short Novel [1]
Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Action, Fiction, Jak and Daxter - Freeform, Krimzon Guard, Miro, clove
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entropy_Andre/pseuds/Entropy_Andre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clove, a citizen of a war torn nation is kidnapped, Miro will stop at nothing to retrieve him. As secrets unfold and options are scarce, the duo may help their people more than ever imagined... Or die trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eco: Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This book is based off of a script for a web series I wrote a few years ago. With no production in sight I decided to share the story regardless of it's film making background.

His knee hurt.  
Clove had been dragged from his city, from his people and publically beaten by a faceless man. He had no soul either, how could he? He’s lost in his abyss of hatred and mindlessly trips through the orders of his superior-  
“Stand up!” Uttered the faceless man.  
Clove lifted his eyes to meet those of his captor. They weren’t eyes, they were heartless beads, glowing bright red as they broke through the dark black visor of the man’s helmet.  
They had thought of everything, the Krimzon Guard; how to see in the night, how to easily leave their enemy in a mesh of flesh at their feet. It seemed the only thing they hadn’t trained was the guilt of a normal man, traveling up the spine of a conscious citizen. It would eventually crawl to the brain like a sharp little spider and leave its prisoner of guilt hopeless: Arms shaking, legs buckling.  
Hopeless like Clove.  
He stood and attempted not to fall, having the blood beaten out of your body takes some tolls.  
A nearby guard clutched his shoulder. Though Clove wanted to be independent, not falling to the ground felt like a good idea.  
He bobbed in front of the faceless man. A faded green paint smudge marked his upper right chest, confirming Clove’s theory of the man’s authority over the other guard members.  
With seven mindless pawns of the Krimzon Guard dotting the meadow where Clove stood, there was no escape. No hope. Nothing but that sharp spider of guilt.  
“You stupid, stupid breed,” Said the commander. His emotions were hidden but anger laced the tone of his voice.  
“You thought we were extinct, they all thought we were extinct!” He spat.  
“But the Guard never goes extinct, the Krimzon Guard never loses!”  
He retrieved a hand gun from his side, cocking it as he lodged it into Clove’s temple. Clove’s body took over, those dizzy feelings rocketing through his forehead. He had no time to think, no time to react. Only time to close his eyes so that black could forever plaque his world.  
But instead he was able to open them once more, just as the commander hit his back. Further gun shots erupted as bullets whipped around the group.  
The guard gripping Clove’s shoulder rushed to his superior’s side. Another guard yelled in a blurred, mechanical voice.  
Things were happening too fast for Clove, but time seemed to pass slowly. Should he run? There was no time. Before Clove could think a soldier had him and the convoy was moving. They rushed forward, bouncing in their armor towards a near forest line.  
Clove was still nothing.  
Still hopeless, but something gave him a little piece of mind. The commander bumping around, being dragged by his fellow soldiers. Now he wasn’t the only hopeless one. The commander’s beady red glowing eyes flickered like a bad light bulb, whispering death.

The rebel guns were loud.  
Miro stood with bellowing steel surrounding his ears. They hurt but he pushed on, squinting through the coiling smoke in front of him.  
He could see the retreating red blobs of a Krimzon squad about seventy yards away, but nothing else. Suddenly a streak of bright yellow hair cracked through the smoke.  
Clove.  
Miro turned to the nearest rebel, hold up in the ditch next to him.  
“We’ve got to charge!” He yelled, hoping his voice would travel through the loud sounds of death.  
It did.  
“What the hell…? - No! Are you insane?!” The rebel screamed back.  
Miro didn’t bother to think of his words. He was already climbing the crumbling clay-ditch. The rebel noticed him and jerked him back down.  
“Kid, stop! You’re going to get killed out there!”  
But Miro was already up the dirt wall. His feet were acting on their own. They hit the meadow like a bull’s, and headed for the forest line.

…

“What?” Asked Zain. He towered over the little scientist.  
Grav’s eyes darted around the room, searching for the nearest emergency exit. He found it, tucked in a steel corner. The entire room was steel. No style, no edge. Just steel walls, a steel table, steel chairs. Steel: The perfect material to keep Grav’s screams muffled.  
Only a window to the South could bring hope, but twenty seven floors high is always an issue.  
Grav cleared his throat and thought out his next words carefully.  
“We have not yet been able to harness the eco…” He said calmly.  
Zain nodded. He tucked his hands together behind his back and began to pace. Metal clops rang out with each step.  
“Grav, I understand it’s difficult” He began.  
“But I gave you thousands of Precursor Orbs, the last we could find on this planet! I gave you whatever resources you wanted and an expendable crew of hundreds! What the hell is the hold up?!” He screamed.  
Grav flinched at the words but pulled himself together.  
“There’s just a lot, sir. It will be done, though. It will.”  
Zain noded.  
“It will be done. Or…” He started, approaching Grav and lifting his hands.  
“… Well, I think we both know.”  
He simply tightened Grav’s tie and turned, exiting through Grav's emergency door in a fury of clops.  
Grav let out a large sigh he had been holding in his lungs. It escaped his mouth like air from a balloon and twisted through the thick ambiance. He lifted a clipboard from his side and began jotting furiously, spitting equations and postulates through the ink of his pen.  
For Zain is not patient. If the Guard can soon provide a necessary amount of eco and Grav and his team cannot yet use it, then Zain will find someone who can.  
Grav shook his head and exited, leaving the steel room empty. Only a hovering since of fear remained. It hung in the air and challenged Grav to finish his work.


End file.
